Re: Sean and Mike
"I'd never heard of it either 'til I came to New York. But, there's a decent-sized subculture movement up here. At least at home. It's mostly based on a romanticized Victorian Era from what I've seen. Jules Verne and all that. Not really my scene. But, the music is interesting. I may have to look for it here. It's crazy stuff." Looking for Steampunk music here would give him something to consider other than his upcoming concert and the missed opportunity that went with it. Sean couldn't help feeling a pang everytime he thought of it. Would they still perform the piece even if he wasn't there? Would Moms go and hear it? "Funny, I find more comfort in the differences. I've lived in the City for almost four years. It's too familiar sometimes, I think."
Sean nodded. "I'll keep it in mind. Once I've got the basics down, maybe?" But, his eyes lit up with the excuse to talk about one of his favorite musicians. "Django Reinhardt was a jazz guitarist. Romani born, lived in France. When he was young, he was caught in a fire that left one leg paralyzed and robbed him of the use of two fingers. So, he retaught himself how to play without them, invented a whole new technique, more percussive than previously seen. During World War II, he lived in occupied Paris. He managed to survive where most other Romani were killed because he had the aid of a German officer who was a secret fan of jazz music. Both Jerry Garcia and Tommy Iommi named him as their own inspirations for continuing to play after accidents to their fingers that could have otherwise ended their careers. There's even a blogging platform named after him."
Grinning, Sean nodded once again. It didn't take much convincing to get him to agree to any excuse to play, especially for an audience, even a small one. "Bet it's more fun for me than anyone," he said with a laugh. Curious, he added, "Why'd you stop playing?"